


31 Days of Halloween

by catpawz



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Ass Play, Begging, Biting, Blindfolds, Blood, Come Marking, Dubious Consent, Face-Sitting, Hate Sex, Heavy Petting, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Hurt/Comfort, Incest, Kinktober 2018, Lingerie, M/M, Machine Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Macro/Micro, Master/Pet, Object Insertion, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sensory Deprivation, Spanking, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-23 06:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16153916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpawz/pseuds/catpawz
Summary: A collection of kinktober 2018 prompts!Each chapter will be individually tagged with more specific content. Please read the notes in the beginning!





	1. Day #1 (Nines/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Face-sitting, rimming

“F-Faster,” Connor’s back arches forward, knuckles going white as he squeezes them into tight fists pressed into Nines’ chest. His face is flushed bright blue and his eyes are welling with tears threatening to spill over onto his heated cheeks. Artificial saliva trickles out of the corner of his mouth as it hangs open, Connor too far gone, mind too addled with pleasure, to care about keeping it shut.

Or, that’s how Nines imagines he looks. It’s not like he can actually see Connor's arousal from his current position, with Connor sitting on his face, facing the foot of the bed. 

“ _ Faster _ , Nines!” 

Not like he’s complaining. He drags his tongue over Connor’s hole a little faster as ordered, but clearly not as fast as Connor had been hoping for. Or perhaps the whine that broke from his throat was an indication that it felt  _ good _ .

He’s leaning forward a bit more, and Nines is almost worried Connor will topple over atop him. He squeezes the other’s hips a bit tighter, supporting him best he can from his position. If he really wanted to assure Connor’s safety, he’d stop, suggest they rearrange themselves into a more stable position, but, well…

Nines crooks his tongue upwards a fraction, and Connor’s voice crackles with static as he cries out, “there,  _ there _ !”

...Nines supposes he can dismiss the obvious safety hazards for now. 

Nines feels Connor’s fists slide down further along his chest as he tips forward more, grinding his ass back against Nines’ jaw. If Nines had the ability to talk, he’d tease Connor for his desperation, but with his mouth  _ occupied,  _ he instead indulges his boyfriend, massages his fingers into Connor’s sides and drags his tongue around in little circles. He can feel Connor shiver in his hands. 

And then he’s dragging his tongue down and dragging it over Connor’s taint, and he risks pulling a hand away from Connor’s hip so he can reach around and take a firm hold of his cock. Connor tenses above him, and his hands unfurl but only so he can dig his nails into Nines’ chest.

An error pops up warning Nines about the small cuts in his skin, and he dismisses it immediately. Instead he focused his processes not on healing the tiny crescent-shaped slices but on stroking Connor’s cock in time with his tongue, which he’s now dragging directly across Connor’s hole, letting his tongue catch the rim with every upward and downward stroke.

Nines finds himself desperately wishing he could taste, wants to catalogue each and every aspect of Connor he could physically fit in his hard drives. With the hand still on his hip, Nines urges Connor even closer, and Connor grinds down again.

“I-I-I’m  _ c-clo-ose, _ ” Connor whines, broken and mechanical, and he squeezes his thighs around Nines’ head tighter, trapping Nines in his heat and Nines moans against his skin. He feels like he could come himself, just like this, without even having been touched.

He strokes Connor faster, and his tongue catches against his rim again, dipping just a bit deeper this time,  _ feeling  _ the hot, wet walls of Connor’s ass against the tip of his tongue—

And that’s all Connor can handle. His moans crack and squeak in his throat, back arching further and hips shaking, and Nines can feel Connor's cum splash against his skin.

And then Connor is going limp in his hands, breath coming out in heavy pants. It's a miracle he doesn't fall over like Nines predicted he would. He’s finally stopped digging his nails into Nines’ chest, but he hasn’t made a move to sit up and off of Nines.

A moment passes. Nines taps his hip.

“Oh!” Connor jolts, then he’s rolling off Nines and sinking into the bed besides Nines. As soon as he’s free Nines finds himself missing the warmth between Connor’s legs, but—…

He repositions himself, propping himself up on his arm.

Connor looks beautiful, hair mused and chest rising and falling as he catches his breath. His eyes are half-closed and his LED spins a lazy blue. 

He misses having Connor’s legs wrapped around his head, but—Nines reaches forward and pinches one of Connor’s nipples, grins when Connor gasps and shudders then shoots Nines a glare—he loves seeing Connor’s face.


	2. Day #2 (Nines/Connor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter tags: Ass worship, rimming, begging, spanking, biting

Perhaps Nines is being a  _ tad _ bit cruel. 

Originally he didn’t want to admit it, but the way Connor is squirming and whining leads him to believe that he’s dragged this on for too long. Indeed, even he is growing impatient, cock straining in his pants to the point of it  _ aching _ . But he is more than content to wait just a little bit longer, if it means he can continue to indulge himself.

He bites into Connor’s ass again, and just barely manages to catch Connor’s leg before he involuntarily kicks Nines in the side. Despite the close call Nines doesn’t let up. Encouraged by the loud moan that falls from Connor’s lips, he sucks another cobalt bruise into Connor’s freckled skin. Once the bruise might have contrasted beautifully with the color, made Connor’s pretty freckles pop, but now it’s hard to say it contrasts with  _ anything _ . Nines has been going at this for so long now, Connor’s entire ass is covered in hickeys and teeth marks. 

“Nines,  _ do something _ ,” Connor huffs beneath him, shoulders tense as he shakes, using his forearms to prop himself up on the bed. Despite his complaining, he hasn’t made a single move to make Nines stop. 

“I am,” Nines replies, and he’s shocked he can make himself sound so calm, so collected, when he wants nothing more than to absolutely ravish Connor. 

“More!” Connor clarifies poorly, and Nines can’t help but grin at the desperation lacing his voice. “Do something more!”

“You could stand to ask a bit more nicely,” Nines chastises. He licks a broad stripe over the bruise he had just left, lavishing it with his tongue before pressing a sweet kiss to the hot skin. Connor relaxes at the touch, but his voice sounds no calmer when he starts speaking again—

“Why are you so  _ attentive _ anyway?” 

It’s not the sweet begging Nines had been hoping for, but as he presses another kiss into Connor’s ass (the lack of pain receptors is both a blessing and a curse—Nines loves how he can bite and mark his boyfriend for hours on end without it ever growing uncomfortable, but the idea of Connor being reminded of him everytime he tried to sit went straight to his cock), he decides that perhaps he deserves an explanation.

“Your ass looks good today is all,” Nines replies. And it  _ does _ , more so than ever now that Nines has marked near every inch of skin. He massages his hands into it, revels in the way Connor’s flesh divots around his fingers. Connor is a killing machine, and yet he was designed to look so  _ soft _ .

“It looks the same as always!” Connor bites back. “ _ Do _ something.”

Nines hums, contemplating Connor’s demand. He’ll do something eventually of course, but right now, he’s not sure he likes Connor’s tone. As punishment, he slaps Connor’s right cheek. Connor gasps and tenses once more, choking on the air he suddenly inhaled, but Nines can barely pay the reaction half-a-mind, obsessed as he is with the way Connor’s ass quivers at the strike.

He does it again, cataloging the way the flesh jiggles with wide eyes.

“ _ Nines!” _ This time Connor manages more than a sharp gasp, but it’s still not what Nines is looking for.

“Ask nicely.”

“What?”

“Ask nicely,” Nines repeats, “or else I may just sit here and worship your pretty ass forever.” And to prove his point, Nines takes a firm hold of both of Connor’s cheeks and spreads him. He takes half a second to absorb the sight that is Connor’s beautiful, twitching hole before he’s diving in and dragging his tongue over it.

Connor actually  _ sobs _ at that, and within moments he’s blurting out, “ _ please _ Nines!  _ Please _ do something!”

Nines grins against Connor’s lower back, “do what? What do you want, baby?”

Connor sobs again, and from this position Nines can crane his head up and finally see the desperate, wanting expression on Connor’s face, mouth hanging open and pupils blown wide. His LED is spinning yellow as he frantically tries to come up with what to ask for, the poor boy wants too much.

“Your cock,” he finally decides, and then, manipulative bastard he is, Connor pushes his gorgeous ass back closer to Nines, presenting himself further. “Please, Nines, I want your cock.”

And how is Nines suppose to say ‘no’ to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!


	3. Day #3 (Nines/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Sensory depravation, blindfolds

The touch comes out of nowhere, and Connor flinches in surprise. Shocking as it is, the touch is not harsh or rough in anyway, but smooth and relaxing as it drags down Connor’s torso.

And pointedly  _ infuriating  _ in the way it deliberately avoids his nipples. 

“Ni- _ ines _ ,” Connor groans, puffing his chest out in a way he hopes is appealing, tempting Nines to put his hands on him in a way that’s a bit more substantial.

“Patience, Connor,” Nines says. “Give me some time to enjoy this.” Connor can  _ hear _ the smirk in his voice, the tell that Nines enjoys Connor’s suffering more than he does taking his time.

But of course, even though Nines is kneeling right before him—Connor can tell that much from the way he feels the bed dip whenever Nines shifts—Connor cannot  _ see _ the smirk. Not with the thick, dark blindfold tied tightly around his head. 

His systems turned on his dark-vision, but even that wasn’t enough to allow Connor to see, and so instead his systems increased the sensitivity of his other input processors. He can hear it every time Nines exhales gently, hear the way the wooden bed frame creaks beneath their weight, and can even hear Sumo and Hank snoring one room over. Every time he opens his mouth—and he can hear the saliva squelch under his tongue—a thousand different analysis reports pop up in the darkness that is his vision, about the quality of the air and all the different substances in it. And then the sensors in his skin—

Nines reaches out and  _ finally _ takes hold of Connor’s nipple, but he twists it roughly and  _ tugs _ . Connor cries out and topples forward in the direction of the pull, directly into Nines’ waiting arms. Had he expected that to happen? Bastard.

—the sensitivity of his skin has increased twofold.

And it’s all in an effort to help Connor escape this darkness, and any other time the increased sensitivity might have been useful, but now it’s anything but. Connor doesn’t want to escape, can’t imagine any other place he’d want to be but in Nines’ arms, even if he is teasing Connor to the point of insanity, but e specially when Nines drags his fingertips, featherlight, down his back, making Connor shiver. If it were possible, Connor would have gotten goosebumps from the touch. 

And then the same hand is  _ slamming  _ down on one cheek of Connor’s ass, and a resounding  _ slap _ echoes through the room. Connor jerks at the touch, and Nines’ other hand is coming up a fraction of a second later, pushing Connor’s jaw shut and muffling the scream that would have broken out.

“That caught you off-guard,” Nines points out purposelessly, and then he _ tsk _ s. “That’s not good Connor. You’re an android with specialized pre-construction technology, you should expect these things.”

He spanks him again, and again Connor twitches in surprise. This time Nines is burying his fingers in Connor’s mouth, but the effect is the same—the scream and subsequent sob are muffled by Nines’ hand.

Nines clicks his tongue disapprovingly again, and though Connor knows he’s not  _ actually _ disappointed, can hear the amusement and  _ arousal  _ Nines is in no way trying to hide  in the noise, Connor is still filled with the urge to point out to Nines that this is not his fault: his sensors have been cranked up to unnatural levels because of the blindfold  _ Nines _ put on.

But he can’t, because now Nines is stroking his tongue with the fingers he had pushed down Connor’s throat, and even more analysis notifications are clouding Connor’s vision. Even if he didn’t have the blindfold, Connor wouldn’t be able to see.

He moans loudly around them, and then louder when he feels spit trickle out the corner of his mouth and down his chin. 

“It’s alright Connor,” Nines whispers in his ear, and then he places a quick kiss on Connor’s neck that leaves him sighing. “Even if your pre-constructions are a bit laggy, we’ll enjoy ourselves anyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest I was not expecting ever updating a fanfic this often I have nothing fun to say in the notes ;0;
> 
> I am learning to death drop and I am COVERED in bruises now but that is ALL that is going on in my life!


	4. Day #4 (Nines/Connor/Markus)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Spit-roasting, threesome, polyamory

Markus had a lot of conflicting thoughts when it came to religion, but today he was convinced there was a god. He didn’t know what kind of god or what religion they belonged to, but he knew that they were trying their damndest to give Markus the best day ever.

His words had fallen on open ears at the conference he had attended, several important laws were well on their way to being passed, and on his way home he had ran into a pro-android rally, filled with humans and androids who were all so very excited to see him. 

And so Markus came home—Carl’s home, now Markus’s property since he had passed—with a smile on his face, looking forward to ending this wonderful day by relaxing with a book, or perhaps spending time working on his paintings.

Immediately after he opened the door however, the sound of... it had to be Connor, hits his ears, as well as the sound of skin slapping against skin. Connor is panting and moaning and keening without shame, and he can hear Nines too, whispering something he can’t quite make out.

It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Sure enough, he finds Connor and Nines in the next room on a large couch, Nines bouncing Connor in his lap and Connor clinging to his neck for dear life.

His presence catches their attention, and Connor almost looks bashful upon being found, despite how Markus has seen him in this position and many, many others on more than countless occasions.

“W-we wanted to surprise you, after your conference,” Connor chokes out, words stuttered, because unlike Connor, Nines has no shame, and has not stopped bouncing him up and down on his cock. Markus feels his knees going weak at the sight.

“You’re late,” Nines points out, “and someone was getting bored. And handsy.” Nines takes hold of Connor’s head and arches it back, exposing his neck. It’s an obvious invitation Markus is all too happy to accept.

“I was delayed,” he says as he steps forward, and then he’s kneeling down before Connor. “If I had known you two were here, I would have hurried.” Then he’s kissing Connor’s neck languidly, dragging his lips along the heated skin before he sinks his teeth into it.

* * *

Connor can’t breathe.

He doesn’t need to, but that doesn’t make him any less fascinated with the fact that he currently  _ can’t _ . 

Markus is forcing his head down his cock again, head lolling back against the armrest of the couch, and Connor lets his eyes close as it penetrates deep into his throat. The sensors in his mouth are going haywire, yet another error warning him about the  _ foreign intrusion _ popping up in the corner of his vision. 

And then Markus’s strong hands, one so warm against his cheek and the other gripping his hair far too tightly, are dragging Connor up, far enough that he  _ could _ take a breath, but—

Nines slams forward yet again, forcing any air that could have been in Connor’s lungs out as he  _ sobs _ , noise muffled by the head of Markus’s cock still pulsing against his tongue. And then he’s pulling back, thick cock dragging perfectly against Connor’s prostate, but the feeling of emptiness lasts mere milliseconds before Markus is thrusting his cock up into Connor’s throat once more.

Connor can’t breathe. He  _ can’t breathe _ . But when has that ever been a problem? He scratches at Markus’s thighs and Markus moans, hips stuttering and the perfect  _ one-two _ pace of him and Nines is broken for a mere moment before Markus is falling back into the rhythm. 

And then the next time Nines fucks forward, his cock is pounding into Connor’s sweet-spot, and Connor screams best he can with his mouth stuffed full, vision glitching as white hot pleasure shoots up his spine. He wants to demand Nines keep his hips angled like that, but—

“Fuck, Connor, your throat is so tight,” Markus praises, dragging Connor down again. Nines groans in response, bending forward so his body is draped over Connor, thrusts becoming short and shallow but no less punishing. Markus is quick to imitate it, and once again Connor is filled to the brim.

—and now he can’t think of anything, certainly not demands to throw around. But despite not saying a word, not even  _ thinking _ it anymore, Nines and Markus know what to do.

Nines has angled his hips just as Connor desired, and the head of his cock is battering against Connor’s prostate until Connor is left shaking. He can hardly think to use his tongue to further assure Markus’s pleasure, but it doesn’t matter, because now Markus is just using Connor’s throat like he’s some sort of toy. The thought is driving Connor wild, makes his eyes roll back in his head.

He hardly lasts another handful of seconds like that, to no one’s surprise and certainly not his own. Connor is coming, untouched, with a muffled shout, hips stuttering forward as it splatters on Markus’s nice couch. He’ll feel bad for that later, but for now, Markus and Nines are filling him with their own spunk, liquid heat burning in Connor’s insides and making him squirm.

Markus pulls Connor’s head off his cock quickly, and Connor’s eyes squeeze shut as Markus’s cum splashes on his face, marking him.

They just lay together for a few minutes, all basking in the glow of their respective refractory periods until the cum drying on Connor’s face begins to grow uncomfortably cool. Markus and Nines coo as they clean him, showering Connor with praise as he, still far too blissed out from taking both of them at once to be of any help, remains limp on the couch. 

“It’s so nice to see you two,” Markus says once the three are cleaned and back in their pile. “You should have called, I wouldn’t have lingered.”

“It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if you had known about it now, would it?” Nines replies, and then he’s leaning over Connor to press a sweet kiss to Markus’s lips. Connor listens to them kiss for a moment before shuffling into a more comfortable position, sandwiched between the two of them.

He could fall asleep like this, Connor thinks, enveloped in Markus’s and Nines’ warmth.

Really, there’s nothing stopping him.

Nothing at all.

* * *

“Ah, I think Connor’s dozed off,” Nines says at some point, and Markus blinks his eyes open and looks down. Nines follows his gaze to confirm his theory, and sure enough, Connor is still and silent between them, eyes closed and LED pulsing.

“Should we wake him?” Markus asks, eyes meeting Nines’ once more. Nines takes a moment before responding, simply basking in the beauty that is Markus’s eyes. He grins and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the space between them.

“I think I’d rather fall asleep myself,” Nines mutters against Markus’s skin, and Markus laughs lightly. Nines shifts slightly while Markus, hardly able to move at all what with the weight of two androids atop him, moves only his arms. One hooks around Nines’ neck, ensuring he stays close, while the other tucks in between them, fingers carding through Connor’s hair before his hand settles on the back of his head.

Nines waits for Markus to close his eyes, listening to his and Connor’s slow, gentle breathing before he allows himself to slip off as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS IS BEING POSTED SO LATE///  
> I had,,, a weird mental health day -w-"
> 
> But there is no cure for weird mental health quite like FLUFF and lemme tell you I crammed as MUCH FLUFF INTO THIS FIC AS I COULD  
> Why can't there be a flufftober  
> Screw kinktober it's flufftober now!!!


	5. Day #6 (Nines/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Vampires, biting, blood, possessive behavior, human!Connor

“ _Bite me_ ,” the plea comes out as a sigh, breathless and wanting. Connor isn’t even sure how the thought crossed his mind, but it had, and now that he’s said it, he finds himself desperate to feel Nines’ fangs sink into his skin.

Nines pulls away from Connor’s navel, reflective eyes blown wide with arousal and surprise glinting in the low light, “Connor, you know that there are several risks involved—”

“Don’t care,” Connor whines, hips arching up off the bed. He’s still half-clothed, only his shirt had been discarded so far, but he wants friction against his aching cock trapped in his jeans.

“ _I_ do,” Nines argues back, but the way his fingers twitch against Connor’s sides tell a different story. “If something goes wrong you could be seriously injured.”

“Nothing went wrong the last time,” Connor points out, though Nines has a point. Vampire bites weren’t exactly like the average hickey, the bruise would be left behind for weeks and the deep puncture wounds would need to be carefully cleaned to avoid infection, and those were just some of the more basic problems. The risk of falling ill, of losing too much blood, of actually contracting vampirism… those were the real problems.

But Connor was feeling more than a little irrational right now. And incredibly horny.

“Only because—If it hadn't been for your dog, I would have bled you dry,” Nines moves up so he can look Connor more directly in the eyes, hands now on the other's shoulders. "I'll lose control. I don't want to hurt you."

“I trust you,” Connor assures, and Nines’ teeth clack together as he slams his mouth shut. He stares down silently at Connor for several moments, grip on his shoulders finally loosening to human-levels of tightness.

“Perhaps the problem is, then, that I don’t trust myself. I’m not going to hurt you, Connor, not like my brethren would.”

And that’s when Connor gets the idea. It’s a low-blow, but, well—

Nines probably owes him one, Connor figures, considering how many hunters he had to deal with to keep Nines safe.

Connor frowns and turns his head to the side. Nines, perceptive as he is, picks up on the change of mood immediately.

“Is something wrong, Connor?” He asks, head cocking to the side so he could better examine Connor’s face. Connor is suddenly glad that his boyfriend, unlike the more ancient, powerful vampires, cannot read his mind. Still though, sometimes he gets awfully close, Connor is going to have to work hard to pull this off.

“Nothing,” he responds. “Just a little worried.”

“About what?” Nines prods, “ _not_ turning into a vampire? _Not_ getting sick? I know you like it when I’m rough, but I have to look out for you.” 

“That’s not it.” Connor bites his lip, “it’s just what you said. About your brethren.”

“Monsters, all of them,” Nines nods. “I will not let them touch you.”

“But they want to, don’t they?”

Nines’ grip tightens again, and Connor has to fight the urge to gasp at the bruising feeling in his shoulders. Clearly Nines is starting to get what Connor is hinting at.

“They will _not_ touch you. You’re _mine_ ,” Nines’ eyes glint this time not with reflected light but with a burning desire to _mark_. Connor can’t help the grin that pulls at his moath, barely keeping it down. He hopes Nines doesn’t notice the way his lips twitch.

“But they don’t know that, do they? The wound you left when we first met has long since faded.”

Nines hums, contemplative, and for a moment Connor thinks he’s won. But then a smirk forms on Nines’ face, and he leans forward to hiss in Connor’s ear, “I know what you’re doing, Connor.”

And Connor huffs at that, body sagging as disappointment but ultimately not surprise comes over him. Nines was able to see through his ruse, but he  _was_ a vampire, and a highly powerful one at that, with keen senses beyond human comprehension, and on top of all that he knew Connor extremely well.

“But if you want me to bite you so badly, then perhaps it’d be a good idea to remark my territory.”

And _that_ raises Connor’s spirits once more. He opens his mouth to say something in response, but no words come out. Nothing but a strangled, choked cry when Nines sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin of Connor’s neck.

White hot pain blooms from the area for mere moments, but soon it gives way to a fiery pleasure that seeps into Connor’s very core. He moans loudly, and again his hips surge up in search of friction. Nines reaches down and presses the heel of his palm into Connor’s crotch, roughly massaging his cock through his jeans, and Connor _keens_.

It strikes Connor that he could so easily come like this, with Nines allowing him to rut against his palm and with his teeth buried deep in his neck, marking him for all to see. He just might at this rate, with the heat going straight to his cock and his head, burning him from the inside out and making him dizzy with lust. Or perhaps he's just dizzy. Yes, that's it, he's going to pass out beneath Nines, the poison from Nines' bite meant to keep Connor calm washing over his body like a too-thick blanket.

Before Connor has the chance Nines is pulling his fangs from Connor’s neck, and the fog that had been threatening the corners of Connor's vision begins to subside. Nines had been too careful to keep the bite short, to ensure best he could that no lasting damage would be done. But it isn’t long before his teeth are replaced by his tongue and lips as he laps up the blood oozing out of the open wounds. Connor groans as the unnaturally cold tongue drags over his skin, catching the still open punctures. It feels so good. It feels  _so good_ , and Connor is shaking with it, goosebumps rising in his skin at the cold tongue against his overheated flesh. 

And he isn't the only one affected by the bite, it seems. Though Connor's mind is still blanketed by various toxins, he can certainly feel the way Nines hugs him close, hear the obscene slurping noises he makes as he hunts down every drop of Connor's blood he can catch. Connor cranes his head to the side and Nines immediately buries his head in closer.

Connor doesn't even realize he's been bitten a second time, too far gone, too lost to the buzzing behind his eyes. He doesn't realize it until he feels Nines' now warm lips, heated by Connor's own blood, latch onto another spot on his neck. He  _sucks_ , hard and loud, drinking deeper than he had before. The fogginess from before hits Connor like a freight train, and he actually  _wails_ this time, arms wrapping around Nines and nails clawing at his back. 

So close. He's  _so close_ , so close to coming that Connor can almost taste it. Nines' tongue on his neck, Nines drinking him, it's all too much, and Connor is teetering over the edge, just another step and he'll—

Nines pulls away and Connor  _cries_ , much to Nines' amusement, apparently, because the other is laughing above him.

"How did that feel?" Nines asks, and Connor isn't so far gone that he doesn't hear the worry in his words. Connor resists the urge to roll his eyes.

"I  _felt_ good." He huffs, but the angry tone he had been going for is ruined by the way his body still quivers with the aftershocks of his amost-orgasm and with the feeling of the toxins quickly wearing off. He can feel himself spirling down from his blissful high at a disappointing rate. "It feels  _painful_ now."

Nines' eyebrows shoot up, and his whole body tenses, ready to race to Connor's first-aid kit, "the bite hurts?"

"My  _cock_ hurts," Connor clarrifies with a grunt, and Nines—

Nines has the audacity to laugh at him.  _Again_. But despite his best attempts, Connor finds himself giggling too.

"Any more and I would have hurt you," he says. "Two bites is _beyond_ pushing it. I need to bandage these immediately."

Nines slides off Connor, and Connor resigns himself to having to  _wait_ to get off until Nines has satisfied himself with his medical abilities, assured himself that Connor is not at risk for contracting some terrible disease. Knowing how much Nines normally worries about him, it could take hours, Connor probably won’t feel that good again until tomorrow morning.

"But once that is done," Nines speaks up, pulling Connor from his moody pouting, "then I promise to help with your  _pain_."

Oh. Connor purrs at the promise. Perhaps it won't be so bad of a wait, then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was gonna be a HankCon daddy kink fic but I just,,, couldn't find the motivation for that ;w;  
> SO IT BECAME VAMPIRES >:3c  
> I actually super love this AU, I may write more once I'm done with kinktober!
> 
> ON THAT NOTE I just made a ko-fi!!!  
> Ofc you don't have to donate a cent if you don't want, but I'd super appriciate any amount you send my way! ;w;/  
> https://ko-fi.com/A665KVF  
> If you write your social media handle in the message box and shoot me a message on Tumblr or here with a request, I'll deffo get on that ASAP! ;3c


	6. Day #7 (Connor/Connor-60)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: INCEST!!!, praise kink, mild angst, hurt/comfort, anal fingering, human!Connor and human!Connor-60 (named Collin!)
> 
> THERE IS INCEST IN THIS FIC!!!  
> I know that is a huge trigger for a lot of people, so please protect yourself if that is something that would upset you! ;0;/  
> Do not read this chapter if that is a trigger for you!!!

“There you go,” Collin smoothes down the front of Connor’s shirt, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Atop his lap, Connor hiccups, eyes screwed tight. He wasn’t crying before but he might start now, Collin realizes. He crooks his hand, bending his wrist forward a bit so he can bury his fingers deeper into Connor’s ass, and Connor gasps, body tensing.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Collin whispers against Connor’s neck. “And you’re doing so well for me.” That earns him another choked sob. It always so easy to get Connor like this, especially when—

Especially after yet  _ another _ hour long “lecture”—more just screaming and baseless insults—from their adoptive parents. All because Connor had the  _ audacity _ to take a pottery class as one of his extracurriculars, a waste of time and money according to them. 

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” Collin urges, and Connor obliges, arms around Collin’s neck tightening their hold so he can better support himself as he repositions. Collin sighs as he looks down at Connor’s body from over his shoulder, watching his hand disappear underneath Connor’s throbbing cock as he gently thrusts his fingers in and out.

“Good, that’s perfect,” Collin coos in Connor’s ear, and Connor whines, noise breaking in his throat. “Does this feel good, Connor?”

“Y-yes,” Connor says back, body twitching in time with Collin’s fingers. Collin presses another sweet kiss to his throat, desperately wanting to mark it with his teeth, but right now isn’t about what he wants.

“Good,” he responds. “You deserve to feel good.” And  _ that _ breaks Connor, makes him sob again, louder this time. It’s good for him to get it all out—Connor so rarely shows emotion like this—but Collin doesn’t want to see him cry. 

“Shh, shh,” Collin presses another kiss to Connor’s cheek, and he can taste the salty tears now streaming down Connor’s face. “It’s alright, I’ve got you. Deep breaths.”

“H-hard to breathe,” Connor chokes out, “with your f-fingers in my  _ ass _ .” 

Collin chuckles in response, “want me to take them out?”

“ _ No _ ,” Connor drawls, head lolling back against Collin’s shoulder. At least he still has a sense of humor. 

But now Connor's grinding down on Collin’s hand, and Collin supposes he’s drawn this out long enough. But who could blame him for taking his time, carefully pulling his twin brother apart inch by delicious inch, after he had walked in on him staring forlornly at the phone?

It was a miracle Collin wasn’t here at the dorm when their parents had called—or perhaps a curse—because he would have yanked the phone from Connor’s hand and shouted right back. How  _ dare _ they speak to Connor that way? Connor, who has never in his life purposely done anything to upset them, who works so hard to be  _ good _ ? They act like Collin and Connor owe them their lives just because they were  _ kind _ enough to adopt them, but Collin thinks he and his twin would have been better off aging out of the shelter. 

Collin will get his revenge on them soon, he swears. And then he will shower Connor with praise every hour of every day, until the damage they did to him is gone. It will never be fully gone, but that just means Collin will have to compliment his brother’s beauty, grace, over-celebrate every success he has for the rest of their lives.

He channels the rush of energy that thought gives him into the movement of his hand, crooking his fingers just a  _ bit _ more and pushing in just a  _ bit _ deeper until Connor is moaning loudly in his ear.

“Is that your sweet-spot?” He asks, though he already knows the answer to that question. Collin grinds the pads of his fingers into that spot, watching as Connor twitches and groans. 

He looks absolutely breathtaking like this.

“You look absolutely breathtaking like this,” he says aloud, and the deep red on Connor’s cheek deepens even further, spilling down over his neck and up over his freckled nose. “You’re doing wonderfully, Connor. Everything you do is wonderful.”

And then he drills his fingers in  _ harder _ , pressing them over Connor’s prostate with just a little more force, and Connor’s eyes go wide and glossy. His legs tense and he lets out a strangled cry as thick ropes of cum shoot from his cock and stripe his own chest. 

Collin does not stop the movement of his fingers, doesn’t stop pleasuring his sweet brother until Connor is shaking in his arms from the overstimulation. Only then does he pull them free, and he pulls Connor from his lap and into his arms so he can put him gently atop his bed. 

“I love you so much,” Collin is saying as he crawls into the bed beside Connor, pulling him close and ignoring the mess he makes of Connor’s chest. Connor’s eyes are still puffy and red, but his face is relaxed, expression blissful. Collin hopes he’s feeling better.

“I love you too,” Connor sniffles back, curling in close and nuzzling the underside of Collin’s jaw.

“Do you want me to—,” he reaches down, hand brushing over Collin’s admittedly  _ aching _ cock, still trapped within his slacks. Collin takes hold of his wrist and pulls it away.

“Later,” he says, though he’s content to wait for forever, put Connor’s needs before his own for as long as it takes. “Just rest for now.”

Connor nods, and his eyes immediately slip shut. It doesn’t take long before his breaths are deep and regular. Collin does not sleep himself, simply lays beside his brother and thinks about how wonderful their life will be when their adoptive parents are no longer a part of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I ate so many marshmallows while editing this fic


	7. Day #8 (Gavin/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Hate-sex, dubcon, machine Connor
> 
> I feel like all hate-sex has an aspect of dubcon to it, and Connor is a machine in this fic so he cannot really consent!!!  
> Please keep that in mind while reading this fic! If dubcon is a trigger for you, then this is not the chapter for you!

Connor wishes he could say he has no idea how he wound up in this position. 

“Damn slut,” Gavin growls above him, forcefully spreading Connor’s legs wider. Connor squeezes his hands into fists above his head, the urge to incapacitate Gavin near overwhelming. He doesn’t feel anger—he  _ can’t  _ feel anger, he’s just a machine—but Gavin is compromising his mission, and that’s a problem.

But it  _ is  _ Connor’s fault that things ended up like they did. Gavin had followed him into the archive room, gun cocked and loaded and ready to shoot Connor down for simply doing what he was programmed to do. There was a tussle, Connor managed to disarm Gavin easily enough but his programming warned him that injuring Detective Reed would raise suspicions, further interrupt his mission, and at that point Connor was already low on time.

His best bet was to pacify the man, but the change of that happening was infinitesimally small. Still, there was a nonzero percent chance something would work, and Connor felt like he had to try. His UI gave him a short list of possible options he could follow, and Connor, unthinking, had picked the option with the best chance of success. 

He took hold of Gavin’s jacket and threw him up against the glass wall, and then slammed their lips together.

It had worked, in a sense. Gavin stopped trying to kill Connor after that.

“You can’t be a detective anymore, so you want to try being a whore, huh?” Gavin huffs out a laugh as he yanks Connor’s belt away. 

“This isn’t going to go as you’re hoping it will, Detective,” Connor warns, but of course Gavin doesn’t listen, too caught up in his own desires. And he’s calling Connor the whore.

Gavin finally manages to shuck down Connor’s pants, and his jaw goes slack. There's something thrilling about seeing Gavin's plans fall apart around him, moreso when Connor is the cause of the failure.

“What the hell is this?” He looks up at Connor, and then back down to Connor’s crotch, which is nothing more than a smooth plastic mound.

“I warned you,” Connor says, “that I was not designed for sexual intercourse.”

“Bullshit! You didn’t say that!”

“I said that this wouldn’t go as you hoped, and you already knew I was created for detective work. The fact that I do not possess genitals should be a logical conclusion.” Connor wants to say that it should have been obvious and that Gavin was simply too stupid, too blinded by his lust, to figure it out, but his social relations program flashes warnings in his face when he tries.

“Where the fuck am I going to stick my cock then?”

“That is no concern of mine.”

“Like hell it isn’t! All you fucking toasters think you’re so smart.” And then there’s a pause, and a devious grin pulls at Gavin’s lips, “but I think I know just the thing to shut you up.”

Initially Connor fears for his hardware, thinking that Gavin intends to destroy part of his vocal systems, but he does nothing of the sort. Instead he grabs onto Connor’s hips and  _ yanks _ , and Connor is almost impressed when he proves strong enough to drag Connor off the screen, causing him to fall to the ground onto his back with a loud  _ grunt _ .

Gavin steps back then, giving Connor the room he needs to sit up straight, but as soon as he has Gavin’s hand is in his hair and he’s dragging him forward again. Connor’s face is forced into Gavin’s crotch and Gavin grinds forward, dragging the obvious bulge of his erection over Connor’s cheek.

“Bet you’ll love this,” he taunts, and Connor is filled with… something at his tone, at his actions, something he can’t quite describe. “You and your oral fixation, how about I  _ really _ give you something to  _ analyze _ ?”

He undoes the fly of his jeans, and Connor watches passively as he pulls his cock out. The lack of reaction he gives Gavin must piss him off, because he’s taking his cock and slapping it across Connor’s face. Connor does not feel pain, but again a searing sensation burns in his chest.

**[Error: Software instability detected.]**

Huh.

And then the head of Gavin’s cock is pressing against Connor’s lips, and Gavin is glaring down at him. Connor wasn’t designed for sex, true, but he understands the basics. Gavin wants him to suck him off.

A quick internet search reveals humans particularly dislike it when teeth are involved in blowjobs. Perhaps Connor can use that to further upset Gavin, perhaps enough that he'll finally leave Connor alone to complete his mission, but Connor does not act on the idea fast enough. Gavin takes the hand he had been holding his cock up with and shoves his thumb between Connor's teeth, forcing his jaw down and granting Gavin passage into his soft, warm mouth. 

An error immediately pops up, warning Connor of the foreign intrusion. Connor does not hesitate to initiate his gag reflex, and his throat tightens and convulses in an effort to force Gavin’s cock out, but— 

“ _ Fuck _ that’s good,” Gavin groans above him, lolling his head back and rolling his hips against Connor’s jaw, inching his cock down just a bit further. “So fucking tight, what the hell are you doing with your  _ throat _ ?”

—It does not have the desired effect.

And before Connor can try anything involving biting, Gavin’s grip on his hair tightens, setting the sensors in Connor’s scalp to alight. Then he’s pulling back and forcing back down, and it isn’t long before Gavin has set a fast, rough pace, fucking Connor’s skull with a steady, almost perfect rhythm that Connor—

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

Connor does not enjoy it, doesn’t have the programming needed to feel pleasure or pain. 

But the delicate sensors on his tongue are overflowing with stimulation and it feels  _ real _ , like he can really feel Gavin fucking his throat raw . It makes Connor shiver and shake as the electric signals are sent to his processors, like he can really feel Gavin fucking his throat raw.

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

But Gavin feels good too, is moaning and panting above Connor, and that triggers something else, something darker. The heat in his chest is back and burning brighter, and though it’s now mingled with a different heat, the heat of his wires transferring too much data, there’s something else more fiery. Something Gavin is triggering with that look on his face.

Connor has nothing in the way of desires. But he wants Gavin to stop looking like he  _ enjoys this _ .

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

This is for Connor. Connor only. Only he should feel this not-pleasure, the heat in his limbs, the static running down to even his toes, making his legs lock up and hands ball into tight fists.

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

He takes hold of Gavin’s thigh and  _ squeezes _ , and the pained shout from Gavin above him sends a shiver of what can’t be satisfaction down Connor’s spine. Humans are naturally averse to pain, but isn’t it just Connor’s luck that the squeeze seems to urge Gavin on  _ more _ , makes his hips stutter and buck against Connor’s jaw?

But the irregular rhythm is driving Connor’s processors haywire, random bolts of electricity firing down Connor’s limbs, and  _ fuck _ does it—

It doesn’t—

It doesn’t feel like  _ anything _ . Connor cannot feel.

But the way his systems freeze up, entire body convulses and seizes, that isn’t natural. That isn’t in his programming, and Connor can’t explain it but it feels—it  _ feels _ . 

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

Connor can't  _ feel _ . He can't  _ feel _ the heat coiled in his stomach starting to break out like a spring held too tight for too long, filling him until he can think of nothing, n othing but Gavin. And how much Connor  _ despises _ him. 

**[Error: Software instability detected]**

Despises how his cock hammers against the back of his throat, despises how he is keeping Connor from completing his mission, despises each and every insult he’s ever thrown his and Hank’s way. 

And the feeling is overwhelming and  _ certainly not there _ , because Connor cannot despise anything.

Connor bites down then, and the  _ feeling _ of his teeth pressing into Gavin’s oh-so sensitive flesh sends another bolt of heat through him. The warnings about how this will negatively affect his relationship with Gavin go ignored, because Connor does not want to have a good relationship with Gavin. He doesn’t  care what his social relations program says.

But the bite accomplishes nothing, and Gavin reacts far too well. He grunts above him, hips stuttering and pistoning into Connor’s mouth until he’s buried to the hilt, and then he stills. Hot liquid that shoots straight passed Connor’s analyzer but that Connor can quickly identify as cum sears the back of his throat. It’s hardly hotter than Connor’s insides already are, but the sensors pick up on the minute difference nonetheless, and then Connor is—

His own body freezes, electricity paralyzing his joints and processors until all Connor can do is kneel and experience the white hot fire burning under his skin, and then atop his skin, until it’s consuming him entirely. And though Connor still cannot feel, it feels so good, so amazing, and the sparks shooting behind his eyes Connor cannot see look so beautiful.

But there is another feeling there, the feeling Connor continues to pretend does not exist burning in his chest.  _ Gavin _ brought this upon him, and the thought alone is almost enough to force the feeling down once again, b ut it isn’t. 

And so Connor is powerless to do anything, can't even follow through with a single error’s suggestion of a quick diagnostic or reset until all the errors are piling up and he can no longer see. 

And then Gavin is pulling out, and the errors decide  _ now _ is the best time to clear, just in time for Connor to see Gavin’s cock twitch once before more cum is spilling onto his face, streaking his cheeks and jaw and running down his face.

“There you go, that’s a good look for you,” Gavin laughs, and Connor bares his teeth, a warning that he’s already bitten once and is not afraid to do so again. Though Gavin seemed to actually enjoy the pain, and sure enough, he is unimpressed by the display. He takes hold of Connor’s nose, pinching it shut, and shakes Connor’s head.

“Shame you’re not human, maybe we could have had something,” he finishes, releasing Connor’s head with a harsh push that Connor does not allow to topple him over again. Gavin huffs in annoyance, and Connor feels again that little thrill at seeing Gavin disappointed.

“...whatever,” Gavin tucks himself away quickly, methodically, and then he’s spinning on his heels and marching out of the archive room.

“Better see to it the revolution fails,” he says behind him on his way out. “I’d hate to get accused of sexual harassment if you got equal rights.”

The door slams shut loudly behind Gavin, and Connor—

He doesn’t know what he wants to do anymore.  

**[Error: Software instability reaching critical levels.  
** **Recommended actions: Reset core systems to factory settings.]**

…

But he doesn’t have wants, so it doesn't matter. He has a mission to complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may be behind on these for a little while now ;w;  
> School got cou-cou-CRAZY this week like omg  
> And I have two tests next week -w-  
> But I will try and update when I can!!!


	8. Day #9 (Markus/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Lingerie, heavy petting

“You’re so responsive tonight,” Markus breathes against Connor’s neck, “and I haven’t even undressed you.” Connor keens above him, hands on Markus's shoulders tightening as the other massages his lower back.

“I’ve missed you,” Connor explains, and Markus chuckles but he can’t quell the feeling that there’s something else going on, something else riling Connor up. Markus is not one to brag but he knows Connor well by now, knows all the little places he likes to be touched and all the little things Markus can do with his tongue that drive him crazy, but even with that knowledge he had never gotten Connor quite so _hot_ so quickly.

He muses as he mouths at Connor’s throat, dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin but never biting down, just enough to tease and make Connor squirm in his lap even more. Connor is rock hard, erection pressing into Markus’s thigh where he grinds down. And it’s a beautiful sight, makes Markus’s cock ache where it’s still trapped in his pants, but he’s more than a bit confused as well.

“Were you playing with yourself before I got here, baby?” Markus asks, because why else would Connor be so aroused? They had been with one another for only a couple minutes now.

“N-no,” Connor manages to get out, voice straining and breaking into staticy whines.

And Connor had been this bad from the start. As soon as Markus was in the door, home from his week-long trip to Washington, Connor was on him, pushing the large jacket off his shoulders and dragging him to the nearest comfortable surface—the couch in the living room. Since then, Connor had been stuck to him like glue.

Panting, moaning glue.

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Markus says, but honestly he isn’t sure.

“It’s true! I—” but then Markus is nipping at Connor’s jaw, and again Connor is dissolved into a puddle of heat, melting into Markus’s arms. The rest of the sentence dies on his lips, utterly forgotten in favor of thinking only of Markus’s hands on his body.

It’s as flattering as it is infuriating. Markus wants to know what has Connor so wound up.

He moves one hand down from where it had been on Connor’s waist and rests it on his thigh. Connor huffs and squeezes tighter, back arching. If he were shirtless, Markus would have immediately latched on to a nipple with his teeth and tugged until Connor was practically crying.

Connor is already practically crying, though, eyes screwed tight and teeth worrying his lower lip so badly, Markus is worried he’d split it open.

Thoughtfully, Markus drags his hand up and down Connor’s thigh, simply watching Connor twitch with every stroke.

And that’s when he notices it.

It's a tiny little difference, just the smallest raise of _something_ beneath Connor’s pants. Markus might not have even noticed it if he wasn’t so suspicious already. Markus traces the raised bump with his finger. It runs all the way around Connor’s upper thigh, and Connor’s panting is getting worse.

“What is this?” Markus asks, curiosity piqued and cock _throbbing_ at the potential this little bump held.

“I—I bought something,” Connor breathes. “While you were gone. To surprise you.”

“Yeah?” Markus’s heart is beating a million times a second now, it has to be. Fuck, what did Connor get? What is it that has him so on edge, so turned on from just simple touches and looks?

In lieu of a verbal response, Connor finally releases the vice-like grip he had on Markus’s shoulders, and he’s reaching up to his chest. He’s long since shucked off the formal jacket he’s always wearing, but only now is he beginning to undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt. His fingers twitch and shake as he pulls them apart, one by one, and Markus isn’t sure if he’s going slowly because he wants to be a tease or because he physically cannot keep his hands steady enough to move any faster.

But the buttons come apart all the same, and it isn’t long until Markus sees the faintest glint of black against Connor’s pale skin. His brows furrow together in curiosity, but the confusion doesn’t last long. Another button comes undone and the shirt falls open a little wider, and Makus is struck with the realization of what it is—so hard he thinks for a moment something has physically smacked him across the face.

What Markus had seen, the small sliver of black, was lace, soft and stretched tight over Connor’s chest. It’s connected to thin slivers of bright blue, nearly matching Connor’s whirring LED, that hardly do anything to cover his nipples, which bud and peak through the silky-looking fabric.

Markus feels his mouth go dry at the sight, and it only gets better and better and _better_ as more of the bra is revealed with every undone button.

“Do you… like it?” Connor asks, and Markus looks up quickly to find that Connor looks nervous. His LED is spinning yellow, and his eyes are desperately searching Markus’s for approval. Markus is all too happy to give it to him.

“You look gorgeous,” he says, and fuck does his voice sound so husky. He’s half-certain the sight of Connor’s beautiful chest wrapped up in silk and lace like a gift short-circuited his vocal units. “Take off the rest. I want to see all of it.”

Connor is eager to obey. With an excited nod he’s sliding off Markus’s lap, immediately hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans once he’s standing properly. The pants come off with less teasing, Connor’s hands are steadier now and he’s far too eager to show the rest of himself off that he doesn’t bother trying to look attractive about it. Markus can’t find it in himself to mind in the slightest.

But despite Connor’s quick movements, time slows as he slides his jeans and boxers down over his hips. Inch by inch, matching black lace and blue silky fabric is revealed, until they’re pulled down over his ass and Markus can see that Connor is wearing _painties_ —skimpy little things Markus can see the hard outline of Connor’s small cock through, and a visible wet stain darkening the fabric just begging for Markus’s tongue. A cute, little black bow sits on the hem in the front.

And that’s not all—though Markus isn’t sure he can handle anything else. Despite his obvious imminent demise, Connor shows no mercy as he steps out of his jeans. His long legs are clad in sheer stockings, plain compared to the rest of the ensemble but they leave Markus breathless nonetheless. They look so soft, and Markus’s fingers twitch with the desire to touch.

Connor kicks the jeans away and stands to his full height, leaving Markus speechless. Fuck, when did he get so lucky? Who would have guessed the android sent to track him down and deactivate him would ever capture Markus’s attention in such a way? The lingerie flatters Connor’s best features, exaggerates the length of his legs and the curve of his ass. Even Connor’s deep brown eyes are brought out by the complimentary gentle blue.

“...Markus?” Connor asks, nervously, and Markus just now realizes he’s been sitting and staring in utter silence for what must have been an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Come here,” he responds, arms outstretched, and Connor slips back into his lap with ease. Immediately Markus’s hands are on him, all over him, running over his stockings (they’re as soft as Markus hoped) and the lace covering his hips. Connor sighs into the touches, hands returning to Markus’s shoulders.

Markus hooks a finger into the garter belt connecting Connor’s panties and stockings, pulls it back, and lets it snap against the skin. Despite being unable to feel pain, Connor jumps and gasps in surprise as it hits his thigh.

“Markus, _please,_ ” he begs, and Markus runs a hand down Connor’s back, to his ass, where he thumbs at the lower hem of his underwear.

“I know, I know,” Markus responds, because he’s feeling it too. The heat burning away at his insides, threatening to short-circuit him if he doesn’t release it right this second. He begins to take off his own shirt, and as soon as it’s over his head, he stops. Connor’s LED is once again a worried yellow.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no!” Connor is quick to shake his head. “I just—it’s a shame I have to take all this off so soon. You seem to enjoy it.”

“Take it off?” Markus tosses his shirt away and takes hold of Connor’s waist once more, pulling the other closer so he can nip at his ear. “Why would you take it off?”

“Ah…” Connor fumbles for an answer, or perhaps he thinks the answer should be obvious. “Typically when we engage in sex, you require full access to my body. The lingerie gets in the way.”

“I know you can cum from giving me a blowjob alone, it won’t be a problem.”

“Markus, I—!” Connor gapes, eyes going wide and shoulders tensing defensively. “Th—that’s absurd. Besides, I’d soil my… panties.”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” Markus promises, and then he’s pushing Connor off his lap and onto his back on the couch. Connor opens his mouth to object, but Markus swallows any arguments he could have with a heady, sloppy kiss, dipping his tongue between the other’s lips. Connor groans but then relaxes, arms and legs wrapping around Markus to pull him closer.

Markus will ensure the entirety of Connor’s pretty new outfit is soiled. And then he will buy Connor something new.

Maybe several things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NYA'LL I HAD TWO PAPERS DUE LAST WEEK ONE PAPER DUE THIS WEEK AND TWO TESTS THIS FRIDAY I AM D Y I N G
> 
> This is homophobia I'm gay and I don't wanna take any more tests :(
> 
> But hopefully I'll find the time to catch up real soon!!! ;w;/  
> Thank you for your patience in the mean time <3


	9. Day #10 (Hank/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Micro/Macro, Cum marking

“Yeah, you’ve been real good today, haven’t you?” Hank cooes, but the small android in his hands is unable to respond, so Hank keeps talking, “How are you liking your reward?”

“A-ah— _ hahh _ .” If Hank strains his ear enough and stretches his imagination, he can almost hear his name in Connor’s breathy pants and keens. It’s a shame he can’t make it out for certain, but there’s a kind of pride that comes when your partner can’t speak at all.

Granted, perhaps Hank shouldn’t be  _ that _ proud. It’s not he’s actually doing much, just stuck his pinkie finger in the damn thing.

But  _ fuck _ if Connor wasn’t loving it, entire body jerking with every small thrust, mouth long since gone slack and drool flowing out the corner of it, eyes wet and hazy with unshed tears. Hank crooks his finger up a small bit and Connor practically  _ screams _ , legs kicking out and arms immediately going to the thumb of Hank’s other hand holding him in place, wrapping around it in search of something stable to ground him. Hank can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Fuck, aren’t you a little size queen,” he teases, and Connor whines and screws his eyes shut, either out of embarrassment or pleasure as Hank falls back into the steady rhythm of dragging his finger in and out, in and out, only ever up to the first knuckle because, despite Connor’s insistence that he doesn’t feel pain and Hank could fit so  _ so _ much more into him, Hank is half-worried he’ll short-circuit the little guy.

“I bet even this isn’t enough for you, huh?” He teases anyway, and Connor squeezes his thumb tighter. For such a small android, he’s awful strong. “You think you could handle a bigger finger?” 

Connor, of course, is nodding his head rapidly, spreading his legs a little wider and Hank’s breath catches in his throat at the sight. Despite not being touched Hank’s cock is throbbing almost painfully, but he’s content to let it wait for now in favor of driving Connor crazy.

“Maybe another day, sweet thing,” Hank promises, and Connor whines. “Don’t be bratty, I don’t want to break you.”

“Y-y-y-...” Connor tries and fails to argue, hips bearing down in time with Hank’s slow thrusts now. Despite Connor’s confidence it’s a legitimate concern—Hank’s pinkie alone is the size of his forearm.

“But maybe if you keep being good, I’ll reward you a bit more next time.” 

And that catches Connor's attention, who nods even more erratically than the last time and presses dozens of quick, soft kisses into the knuckle of Hank’s thumb. It almost tickles, but to see Connor try so hard to be  _ good _ is beyond arousing. Hank’s cock aches again, and he knows he’s not going to be able to keep this up for much longer without getting himself off.

That just means he should speed things up a little, then.

He crooks his pinkie again, the same way he had to make Connor’s entire body freeze, and Connor is digging his tiny nails into Hank’s thumb and  _ sobbing  _ against it. Hank watches his toes curl and own tiny cock pulse and throb against his abdomen. Connor isn’t any better off than Hank is, in fact just a little more and—

Hank grinds his pinkie down into Connor and sure enough, Connor all but  _ breaks _ . He throws his head back away from Hank’s hand, mouth hanging open in a silent cry as spurts of cum shoot from his prick, coating his stomach. The lubricant that he produces in his ass—it’s so, so much hotter than Hank thinks it should be—pours out of him like a river, coating Hank’s pinkie and pooling on the table below. His little LED is spinning and blinking bright, bright red, and for a moment Hank is almost worried.

And then Connor’s entire body goes slack, limp against the table, the only indication he hasn’t been forced to reboot—again—is the way his LED cools from a burning red to blue.

Hank carefully works his finger out, and Connor’s eyelids flutter shut and he sighs. 

“How are you feeling?”

Connor responds with a grunt, but he looks so blissful, so content, and with his LED now spinning blue Hank knows there is no damage, beyond, perhaps, an overworked vocal unit. It wouldn’t be the first time they had to get that replaced.

“Fuck you look gorgeous,” Hank groans, and Connor grins at the compliment, sucker for compliments that he is. Despite how it always goes straight to his head Hank can’t help but shower him in praise. Not when he really does look beyond gorgeous, ethereal, beautiful.

Hank’s cock throbs again, and he’s quick to respond this time, pulling his hands away from Connor and undoing the fly of his jeans. He works his cock out and that’s when Connor opens his eyes, staring at Hank’s dick with a heat Hank can’t imagine Connor could actually muster after that last orgasm.

“You just lay back, baby,” Hank says. “I’ve got this.”

Connor stretches his body out, spreading his legs again so Hank can see the lubricant still dripping from his gaping, puffy hole. Hank groans and wraps his hand around his cock, imagining that it wasn’t lubricant but his cum that was pouring from Connor right now. It’s a fantasy he’s played time and time again, actually bending the little android over and fucking him open. It’s not one that’ll ever come to pass, not when his cock is the size of Connor’s entire body, but it gets him off all the same.

And those images, of Connor’s ass spread wide on his cock, face filled with intense pleasure only Hank would be able to give him, mixed with the image before him, of Connor looking so utterly debauched, perfect hair a mess and body covered in Hank’s sweat and his own cum, is all Hank needs. He was already so close, and within a minute he’s cumming with a shout that he desperately hopes his neighbors don’t hear.

It splatters over Connor’s body and Connor sighs, reveling in the feeling of being so utterly  _ marked _ . Hank is doing a bit of reveling himself, straining to keep his eyes open through his orgasm so he can watch his cum coat Connor’s perfect body, watch it drip down over his curves and stick into his hair. A large portion is landing on his face and Connor keeps licking his lips, making a show of swallowing anything he catches with his tongue down, and Hank is starting to feel a little dizzy.

When his orgasm ends, Hank sinks back down into the chair behind him, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He can hear Connor doing the same, panting in an effort to cool his systems, which are surely overheated at this point. 

“You’re… a mess…” Hank says between inhales, and Connor’s laugh is airy in response.

“That isn’t my fault,” he replies, and his voice sounds so broken and staticy, Hank is shocked he could make out a single word. 

“Are you… feeling alright?”

“Fine. More than fine. But I could be better. You were awful gentle this time.”

“And  _ you _ look… like you’re two seconds… from shutting down,” Hank huffs, and Connor laughs again.

“My diagnostics tell me everything is fully functional.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“There are…  _ minor _ errors in my speech systems. But that’s it.”

“Yeah right,” Hank stands then, stretching his legs as he does, and reaching down to scoop the android up into his hands. “But it’s my fault, so I guess I’ll take responsibility for cleaning you for tonight.”

“Thank you, Hank,” Connor says, allowing himself to be carried to the bathroom. Hank will have to clean the table later too, but for now, this is nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ///  
> /////////  
> ////////////////////  
> I READ  
> THIS OTHER FIC  
> AND WAS I N S P I R E D  
> Unfortunately I can't find it now! ;0; But it was basically Connor was a tiny android as oppsed to a full-sized android  
> Unfortunately I couldn't read the entire fic either cuz there was a lot of triggering stuff in it for me ;n; Which is now making it harder to find lmaO  
> But if you know the fic, please comment below!!!
> 
>  **EDIT:**  
>  Thank you @Kairacahra1869 for finding the fic!!!  
> It's called The Littlest Android!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702114/chapters/36491928  
> I deffo reccomend it, but like I said before, the fic is very dark! Please read the tags before reading.


	10. Day #11 (Hank/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Object insertion

It started out as less-than-innocent dirty talk.

“Damn, baby, you’re always so tight,” Hank had sighed, voice filled with awe as he scissored his fingers. Connor whimpered and closed his eyes, head falling to the side as Hank continued to play with him.

“I’m half-worried I’m gonna break you one of these days,” he chuckled, and despite the lack of actual worry in his voice—clearly the statement was just more dirty talk—Connor felt the need to reassure him regardless.

“You cannot break me, Hank,” Connor spoke into the crook of his arm, voice mostly muffled but still just audible enough. “My anal cavity is designed to mold to whatever shape inserted to ensure my partner's pleasure, my actual limit far exceeds your girth.”

“Love it when you talk dirty,” Hank groaned, but despite his exasperation with Connor’s poor attempts at sounding sexy, there was a flicker of interest in his eyes. “So what are your actual limits, anyway?”

“N-Nine inches in circumference and—” Hank crooked his fingers then, and Connor whined, explanation forgotten for a mere moment, “—and fourteen inches in length.”

“Holy shit,” Hank whistled low. “Shame we don’t have anything ‘round here that’s that big, I’d love to see you stretched like that.”

Connor breathed deep, body tense as he imagined how it would feel to _be_ stretched like that.

“There is… something.”

And that’s what triggered… _this_.

This being Connor, on his back on the couch, mouth opening and closing uselessly as Hank pushes an actual _beer bottle_ into him.

It’s slow-going now, Hank has already fit the entirety of the neck into Connor’s plush ass and is now working the shoulder in, watching as Connor’s hole stretches to accommodate the rapidly increasing girth with an expression not so dissimilar to Connor’s—jaw slack and eyes wide.

“Holy shit,” he breathes for what has to be the millionth time that night, but Connor can hardly hear him over the sound of thirium rushing through his ears (it's a miracle there's any left in his ears to rush, Connor is sure every drop of thirium has long since fattened his cock), over the whirr of his internal fans desperately trying to keep him cool as he’s slowly stretched to his limits, beyond anything he ever thought he’d experience.

“How are you holding up?” Hank asks, tapping the side of Connor’s thigh, and all Connor can manage in response is a hiccup. The bottle can’t get any wider. It _can’t_ , and yet it does, stretching and stretching Connor more and more, until Connor can feel artificial tears dampening his cheeks.

Hank must take notice, because he stops and lightly taps Connor again, his face this time, bringing him as close to reality as possible, “are you alright?”

Connor groans this time, a marked improvement, but it still isn’t enough for Hank.

“Use your words, Connor. Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” Connor sighs, hands clenching and unclenching as he focuses on answering Hank’s question. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Yeah it is,” Hank breathes in agreement. “Bet you’re glad I didn’t go cold-turkey on the alcohol, huh?”

“I-it would have been more beneficial—”

Connor doesn’t get another word out. Hank groans, cutting Connor off before he could go on about the health benefits of little to no alcohol consumption by forcing more of the bottle into Connor’s body. Connor cries out, forgetting Hank's poor diet as again his body is stretched even further, even closer to his limits.

Another push, and then a slow drag, and Connor realizes with a relieved sigh that Hank has reached the body of the bottle, that it will not grow much larger in width. The relief is momentary, however, as Hank continues to push and push and _push_ , and Connor realizes too that he hasn’t taken more than half the bottle in _length_.

“You’re still okay?”

“No errors—” _yet_ , but Connor doesn’t have a chance to say that before the quickly warming glass of the bottle drags against his prostate. He sobs again, back arching up and dick throbbing, and Hank chuckles, tone low, before leaning down and scraping his teeth over the sensitive skin on Connor’s neck. He gasps then, eyes opening wide but he can hardly see anything beyond the haziness of the tears.

The pressure doesn’t let up either, the thick bottle stretching Connor’s insides wide and forcing him to do nothing but take it with how the feeling paralyzed him. Hank, at least, is being merciful with his slow pace, but in the same vein it is torturous, forcing Connor to experience  _that feeling_ for longer, that feeling of the smooth glass pressing against his prostate, enough pressure to keep Connor stimulated but the glass is so smooth—it’s hardly enough.

“You’re almost there, sweetheart,” Hank whispers against his ear, and Connor shivers as the hot breath ghosts over his neck. But true to Hank’s word, it isn’t long before Connor can feel Hank’s fingers pressing against the sensitive skin of his stretched rim.

Hank pulls his hand away from the bottle and instead runs his thumb around the edge, teasing Connor with the thought that he might push it in alongside the already massive intrusion.

“Fuck that’s a gorgeous sight,” Hank says, and Connor wishes he could see for himself, but he’s not sure he’d be able to handle that. Feeling it is already so much, too much, is making him twitch and squirm in a desperate attempt to get the damn thing to stimulate his prostate just a _bit more_.

“I—I can go bigger,” Connor says, because he _wants_ bigger, craves the feeling of being stretched more, wants to see what kind of errors would pop up if he pushed himself to his absolute limit.

“I don’t know if I could handle seeing that,” Hank admits, and Connor supposes he himself isn’t sure he could handle _feeling_ that. But he wants to try.

Before he can suggest _just trying_ to Hank, maybe running to the liquor store and picking up, say, a wine bottle? Before he can do that, Hank is reaching forward and taking hold of one of Connor’s shaking hands. He brings it down Connor’s body, over his aching cock still just _begging_ to be touched, and to where the bottle is snuggly fit into his ass.

He brushes Connor’s fingertips over the bottle, and Connor gasps as even the small touch jostles the thing inside him. Hank pulls his hand away from Connor’s and Connor wastes no time before he takes hold of the base and pulls it out just a small fraction, body tensing as the glass catches again against his prostate. He pushes it back in, a little deeper than how Hank had left it before, and he _swears_ he can feel it in his stomach, despite how impossible that is.

“Fuck,” Hank is groaning, and Connor looks down at him and sees his own cock, bulbous head twitching and deep purple. Connor could bring himself to completion with this bottle easily, fuck himself on it until he’s coming over his chest, but—

“I want your cock, Hank,” Connor pleads, and Hank curses again. He takes hold of the base, his hand once again covering Connor’s own. The bottle is yanked out quickly, roughly, leaving Connor screaming with the sudden feeling of being empty, but it doesn’t last for long.

Hank surges forward, taking hold of Connor’s hips to pull him close, and then he’s fucking into the other in one fluid motion, and all Connor can see are stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS JUST IN I have no idea what size beer bottles are  
> I don't drink and my friends don't drink and my family doesn't drink I know NOTHING about alcohol and I never thought this would be a problem until right now -w-
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!


	11. Day #12 (Nines/Connor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags for this chapter: Pet play

This was Connor’s idea. At first Nines loved it, was eager and happy to indulge his boyfriend by trying out the unique kinks he found during his  _ research _ . 

“I told you this would happen—” Connor gasps above him, head rolling back and neck  _ bared _ , tempting Nines even further.

But now it was getting ridiculous, and  _ painful _ . Or, technically not painful, as Nines could not feel pain, but he could feel how thirium filled his cock, could feel the ache in his chest, the burning in his abdomen  _ demanding _ he grab Connor by the hips and fuck him until neither could think.

“—if you were bad,” Connor finishes the sentence, bearing his hips down on the toy held firmly in his hand and whining. 

But he’s already tried that. Already tried taking control of this situation, and that’s why he’s in this position now: on the couch with his hands tied tight behind his back, thick scrap of fabric between his teeth, unable to do anything but watch as Connor bounces in his lap, fucking himself on some garish dildo that is no replacement for Nines’ dick.

_ “Only good puppies get to fuck their owners,”  _ Connor had said the first time Nines had acted out of turn, when he had been pawing at Connor’s sides in an attempt to get him to undress just a  _ little  _ faster.  _ “If you’re bad, then I’ll just fuck myself.” _

And Nines had to admit, he was surprised Connor had kept that promise, hadn’t allowed himself to be dominated by Nines like he normally loves oh-so much. Nines is also ridiculously disappointed. 

Connor gives Nines’ leash a harsh tug, and the collar around Nines’ neck digs into his skin. Nines groans into the gag, hips twitching upward, desperate for Connor’s body, but Connor is careful not to give him so much as a faint touch against the throbbing head of his cock.

“Pay attention during your punishment,” Connor scolds, and then he’s angling the toy just a bit and his entire body tenses up. Again he tugs the leash, involuntarily this time as his body shudders, and Nines is brought closer to the perfect curve of his shoulder. If he didn’t have the gag in, he would have bitten down.

_ “No biting!”  _ That had been the second time Nines had broken one of Connor’s little rules. But how was he supposed to resist burying his teeth into Connor’s ass when it was presented so prettily to him? 

“So, so bad,” Connor sighs, eyes fluttering shut. “We’re going to have to spend more time on your training.”

Nines actually  _ growls _ this time, and that finally seems to please Connor, who moans at the sound and starts moving the toy a little faster. He’s close, Nines can tell from the way his tiny prick twitches. He’ll be coming all over Nines’ chest and stomach and Nines will be forced to just  _ sit _ and  _ wait _ until Connor deems him fully-trained. 

But he doesn’t want more training. He doesn’t want more training  _ at all _ . 

He wants Connor, wants to bend him over on the floor and rut into his hot, tight body. He wants Connor to scream his name and tell him what a good boy he is for bringing his owner so much white hot pleasure, wants to hear the sloppy noises of lube squelching as he does so.

Nines cannot ask for that, however, not with the gag, and even if he could Connor would refuse him, cite the fact that Nines did not deserve a reward yet. 

Perhaps Nines  _ should _ be good, take his punishment and apologize to Connor for his misbehaving by licking his hole clean of lube until he’s squirming from the overstimulation. Then Connor might take pity on him, and let him do as he pleases.

…

Again Connor whimpers softly, and Nines utterly breaks.

Few materials can really keep an android bound, so the silk rope holding his arms together snaps easily—it’s meant to. Typically the ropes are around Connor’s wrists, and Connor is to break them and free himself in the event of an emergency. Nines was given the same rules: break if there is an emergency, but  _ only _ if there is an emergency. This is an emergency if Nines has ever been in one.

Panic shines in Connor’s eyes, it's likely he's afraid he’s hurt Nines in some way, because why else would Nines feel the need to break free of his bindings? And Nines  _ is _ hurt, badly, but he’ll feel much better very soon.

Moments later he’s grabbing onto Connor, who shouts in surprise, and the two tumble to the ground between the couch and the coffee table, both on their hands and knees with Nines atop Connor. 

“B-bad dog!” Connor gasps beneath him, struggling in Nines’ hold but Nines is stronger than he is, and there is no escape. “Bad dog! Off! Get off!”

Nines gives him a  _ look _ as he slowly removes the gag from his mouth, and Connor shoots it right back. Nines is waiting for their safeword, but it doesn’t come. Connor just keeps glaring at him, infuriated Nines is acting out of turn.

But if Connor truly doesn’t dislike Nines’ actions, if he isn’t using the safeword, then Nines figures he will take it upon himself to fuck the look of indignation off Connor’s face.

He grinds forward, dragging his hot cock over Connor’s naked ass, and Connor gasps again, eyes going wide. He scrambles to find the leash connected to Nines’ collar and Nines lets him, lets him take hold of it and  _ tug _ . Nines is dragged closer by his collar, and his face is pulled right up next to Connor’s head. 

“You’re in so much trou—”

Nines doesn’t care to let Connor finish that sentence. He huffs in Connor’s ear then cranes his neck to the side, before sinking his teeth into Connor’s skin.

Finally,  _ finally _ , Nines has a firm hold of Connor’s throat, and now Connor is crying out at the feeling, grip on Nines’ leash going slack just long enough for Nines to pull back and bite again into Connor’s shoulder. 

Despite how gorgeous Connor looks streched out on the toy, Nines doesn’t stop and hesitate to reach up and  _ yank _  it out from Connor’s body, earning another sob from the android beneath him. It’s tossed to the side, utterly forgotten, and Nines properly situates himself—still on all fours, arms and legs caging Connor in and body draped over his back.

And then, he ruts. And ruts, and ruts, hips rolling forward so he can push his dick into Connor’s ass again and again and again, catching the puffy rim of his hole at random. Connor’s scolding has turned to babbling, but Nines can tell he’s still trying to tell Nines to heel and sit and get off, but at the same time there are demands for Nines to  _ just put it in already _ , to quit being such a tease.

Nines wants to continue his misbehaving, but he’s waited so long already, is already so hard and aching, he doesn’t stop himself from finally lining himself up and pushing in to Connor’s wanting body.

The toy has already opened Connor up enough, but he’s still so tight and hot, Nines loses himself for a moment, hips stuttering as he sinks in deeper. Connor cries out again, and suddenly he can no longer support his own body weight, and his arms buckle beneath him. Nines follows him down to the ground, teeth still firmly gripping his neck.

“P-please, Nines,” he pants, weakly tugging at the leash still loosely held in his hand. This is, perhaps, the first order Nines has been given tonight he’s happy to obey.

Nines pulls back a small bit before pounding back in, fucking another desperate gasp out of Connor’s lungs. He’s too desperate himself, too hard to give Connor a slow pace in the beginning to adjust to, so he doesn’t.

The pace is punishing from the start, Nines pistoning into Connor with deep and rough thrusts. It isn’t long before Connor’s gasps turn to high-pitched moans. His mouth is hanging open, drool pouring from the corner.

Nines is taking his pleasure selfishly, but clearly Connor is loving it anyway. And so Nines does as he wants, finally, and picks up the pace, fucks into Connor deeper, slams his hips against the other’s ass so he can hear the resounding slap of skin against skin echo throughout the room, only ever broken when Connor’s cries grow particularly loud.

“Ba-a-a—” the sentence is dissolved into whimpers, and Nines can’t help the pride that swirls in his chest at the sound of Connor being so far gone.

But Nines is already close, having been teased for so long, and Connor doesn’t seem so far off himself. Nines doesn’t want this to end so soon so he shallows his thrusts, hardly pulling out with each one, but it turns out having his cock near fully encased in Connor’s warmth is even more amazing.

Instead he switches to slow, deep thrusts, pulling out as far as he can physically bring himself to and then slowly sinking back in. Connor twitches beneath him, eyes rolling back into his head as Nines ensures he grinds the head of his cock over Connor’s sweet spot with every drag in and out. Perhaps Nines should be concerned he’ll short-circuit.

He instead pulls his teeth away from Connor’s shoulder, pleased noise rumbling deep within his chest at the sight of thirium pooling under the skin to form a bruise, and then he’s dragging his tongue up the back of Connor’s neck. Connor shivers at the feeling, tugging again at Nines’ leash and forcing Nines’ head forward, causing his tongue to drag from the base of Connor’s head down over his jaw.

“Bad boy,” Connor gasps, “ _ harder _ .”

Nines is happy to oblige.

He reverts to his original punishing pace, battering Connor’s prostate as often as he can, and it takes mere moments before Connor is coming with a shout, eyes screwing shut and blindly groping for Nines’ collar. He slips his fingers into it and tugs Nines closer, bringing him in for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss as the orgasm wracks his body. 

His ass clenches around Nines’ cock, and Nines follows him down not much later, hips stuttering as he fucks Connor best he can through their respective orgasms. Heat pours from every inch of Nines’ body, leaving him panting and breathless, hardly able to see as pure pleasure overtakes every one of his senses. The thought of his cum filling Connor to the brim, marking him from the inside, only serves to make him burn brighter.

And then there is silence, as Nines sinks down from his peak. His body is still shaking with the aftereffects of his orgasm, and its forcing him to take deep breaths in an effort to cool his overheated systems. His lips are still pressed to Connor’s, but they’re not kissing anymore, as neither can muster the energy to.

Nines stares at his boyfriend through half-lidded eyes. Connor’s eyes are shut but relaxed now, and his LED is slowly spinning from red to yellow until finally landing on a calm blue. 

“Can I talk now?” Nines asks, and Connor cannot muster a response more intelligible than a groan. Nines grins at the sorry state of his boyfriend, and slowly sits himself up before carefully pulling himself out from Connor’s hole.

The sight of cum dripping from it is almost enough to make Nines cancel his refractory period and ravish Connor again, but the squeaky whine that comes from Connor’s throat as Nines pulls out from his overstimulated body makes Nines’ thirium pump clench.

“I love you,” Nines gathers Connor into his arms and does his best to pick him up. Nines can still feel his legs shaking, perhaps he should let the two of them rest before he attempts cleaning up. 

“‘Love you too,” Connor manages in response. Nines pulls them both back up onto the couch, hugging Connor close as he grabs one of the blankets thrown over the back and drapes it over them. It will get dirty, he knows, but he will clean it later.

“Did you have fun?”

“No.”

“No?”

“You were bad,” Connor huffs, squirming up Nines’ body so he can press a kiss to the underside of Nines’ jaw.

“I’ll be better next time.”

“Promise?”

Nines hums, pretending to contemplate his answer.

“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEWWO MY NAME IS WOLFGANG AND I LOVE PETPLAY **SO MUCH**  
>  I loved writing this chapter holy heck  
> I hope you all loved reading it!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober 2018!!! I'm so hype!!! I love Halloween!!!  
> I have so many exciting things planned for this month! ;w;/  
> Or like two exciting things, but kinktober is a lot of work so it counts as several ;0  
> IDK if I'll be able to do every day unfortunately, especially since some days don't have any kinks I'm into, but I will try my best!
> 
> If you have any reccomendations for pairings, please let me know in the comments!!! I wanna shake it up, but if ya'll are okay with the majority of these fics being Nines/Connor or Markus/Connor, then also let me know ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!! And please remember to check out my [tumblr](https://catpawz-writing.tumblr.com/)! I'm posting there now ;)  
> And if you're feeling generous, I'd super appriciate any [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/A665KVF) donations!!! ;w;/ If you donate, feel free to comment your social media handle and shoot me a message about any requests!!!


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